


By a Clock's Hand

by bellygunnr



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Fic, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21940312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellygunnr/pseuds/bellygunnr
Summary: Emperor's invited Rider over for the holidays, which leads to lots of fluff and heart. Prince welcomes Laceless into his life and into the team.
Relationships: Emperor/Rider (Splatoon), Prince/Laceless
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33
Collections: CoroikaCollection





	By a Clock's Hand

[ Contact: Emperor ]

Rider: Where do you want me to park tomorrow morning?

Emperor: Wherever is open, but not the circle drive, nor outside the gates.

Rider: Send me a picture of the preferred location, at the very least. 

Emperor: Of course.

  
  


Rider rubs the sleep from his eyes with one hand, the other occupied with his phone. He fires off a few more text messages before tucking the device out of sight, hands once again descending upon the contents of his desk-- a myriad of tools, metal, wires, and papers. A partially built clock stares at him unfeelingly, its face permanently set on six thirty. He twists the device around and goes back to fussing with the delicate wiring inside.

The project began as a chase for insomnia, then evolved into a genuine labor of love. Sometime last month, it evolved once again into a gift, a gift for a man who he had no business liking as much as he did. Once it got to that point, Rider began working on the device tirelessly, biting through one frustration and complication after another. Building a clock was hard.

Not that he minded, of course. It was something constructive to do with his hands, and ultimately, he was excited for the project to come to life. Combined with Emperor's golden disposition, the brassy clock was sure to appeal. He groans as the wires he was manipulating spring out of his grip, unused to being bent, and refusing to obey. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Rider ignores it in favor of stuffing the wires back inside, hissing as the sharp metal on the edges of the cavity slices his skin. With a frantic burst of energy, he gets the wires in and connected, hands retreating before lime ink can tarnish the insides.

"Need to sand that down more, I guess," he grumbles, stuffing his fingers in his mouth. He brings out his phone.

[ Emperor has sent 2 images. ]

Rider: Thanks. I'll park there.

Emperor: Bring your bike! Prince will be sure to love it.

Rider: I think you just want me to have the "rough punk boyfriend" vibe. Also, it's cold as shit.

Emperor: Language! And very well... I tried! 

Rider doesn't grace that with a response. He casts the phone aside and stares at the partially finished clock intensely. The outside still needs to be polished, but the face is pristine. The hands are a deep, brassy hue, the same metal as the numbers. He had to admit the details were a bit thick, but he knew it to be a consequence of the metal he had chosen. Dynamo parts were not thin plates.

As for the rest of the clock, intricate designs had been engraved into the curves, courtesy of Bamboo's own shop. He rubs his fingers against the grooves of the looping designs, biting back a yawn. God, he was tired. And he still had to hook up the battery pack.

At least it's the final touch...

With a heave, Rider sets back upon his work and does not come back out of it until he is finished twenty minutes later. He cleans from his desk the debris, scattered tools, and scraps, leaving the clock free of mess. With a tentative hand, he flicks on the switch.

The LED face lights up, illuminating the brass hands and numbers. He grins. 

  
  


Christmas morning finds Rider waking thirty minutes past his own phone alarm. The irony of his situation is not lost on him as he stares at the traitorous snooze record-- a button he had hit no less than four times. If he were to look at the bright side, at least he was only thirty minutes past his desired time. Regardless, it was frustrating.

So very frustrating.

So it's like that that he rolls out of bed and stomps around aggressively, plucking from his room the various pieces of clothing he would need. Out of a brief spur of vanity, a designer outfit had been selected, but sometime last night he had decided upon a much more homely appearance. A holiday sweater from home-- from his mother's wardrobe, no less, which only fit because he favored his mother's genes. It was still tight, of course, especially around the arms, but as long as he didn’t strain himself…

Rider has no time to worry about it. After pulling his tentacles back in his usual ponytail, he fires off a text to Emperor.

[Contact: Emperor]

Emperor: Good morning, love!

Rider: Good morning. Sorry, I woke up late, but I'll still be on time.

Emperor: Take your time. While punctuality is a virtue, I believe Christmas offers some mercy.

Rider: Eloquent. Don't use so many words when it's like, six.

Emperor: It's nearly eight.

Rider: See you soon.

+

When Rider arrives at the Hozuki mansion, he is once again overwhelmed by the sheer size of it. Much of its grandeur is only amplified by the heavy piles of snow, accented by strings of lights that he only sees through intense scrutinizing. He sighs, pressing his back against the door of his car, working up his nerve to breach Emperor's home.

"Master Rider! Good morning. Is there anything I can do to assist you?"

Rider blinks, recognizing the voice. One of the Hozuki employees. Laceless' mother, simply named Pos. 

"Ah, good morning. No, I should be alright-- are you working?" Rider asks, brow furrowing in concern. 

"No, no. No one works during the holidays around these parts," Pos says, smiling gently. "Is that a gift for Emperor?"

She gestures to the box Rider had fished out from his car-- a fairly large thing wrapped up in pale yellow and marked with shiny silver trappings. He nods, lime ink dusting his cheeks. 

"Is Laceless here?" Rider asks, feeling his ears prick with sudden curiosity. 

"That's a silly question," Pos replies, snorting. She leads Rider along the cobbled path to the great doors of the mansion, pushing the doors open. Immediately, warm air and good food floods his entire body, and the sensation makes him feel lightheaded.

Or maybe that was because he forgot to eat.

Rider looks around. Insecurity wells up inside him, especially as Pos is sucked back into the depths of the party.

"Riiiider!" 

Oh, never mind. Rider grunts as Emperor rushes him from the front, tugging him into a body-crushing hug. His grip tightens on the gift in his hands.

"Emperor! Hey!" Rider manages, offering a toothy grin. The sharp edge of the box digs into his gut.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Emperor says belatedly, backing away to give the other space. "I was just so excited. Is this gift for me?" 

"Uh, yeah. Where should I put it?"

"Beneath the tree, of course!" Emperor laughs, beaming.

+

Even though the party had only just started, it was loud. Music thrummed indiscriminately through the walls of the house, detectable underfoot even on the upper floors. Laceless rubs the back of his neck as he faces Prince's closed door, hesitant despite knowing that Prince was less than a knock away.

Or not.

The door opens just as he raises his fist, and he lets his arm drop. He smiles tentatively, shyly, at the other, an apology on his lips.

"Come in here," Prince says, smiling. "It's okay."

He lets himself be pulled in. Prince's room is cozy, large but full of stuff, a myriad of more colors than could be found in the house. Better, it's quiet here, as if separated from the rest of the mansion.

"Sorry," Laceless mutters. "I brought you a present."

"I got you one, too!" Prince says. "Let's exchange them now. We don't have to do all that crowd stuff."

Laceless climbs onto Prince's bed, flailing a bit as he sinks immediately into the soft layers. He gives up and lets himself flop back, going entirely boneless. The tiny box in his hands is kept tight against his stomach.

Prince climbs up beside him, settling a large box onto the bed. It evens out the soft bed enough for Laceless to sit up, looking at the box quizzically.

"Go on, open it!" Prince urges.

+

Emperor's pulled Rider out onto the balcony-- or the porch? It was hard to tell. Rider was fairly certain balconies didn't exist on the first floor, so maybe it was a veranda. He goes through his limited vocabulary of platforms suspended off of the sides of houses, eyebrows furrowed, until Emperor drags him out of his brain.

"I'd offer you a drink, if you drank," Emperor says, peering at him with sympathy. "How are you doing? You look great."

Rider hums. "I'm alright, don't worry, Emp."

"Of course not," he replies. With that, Emperor leans over the balcony-- executive decision, it's a balcony-- with his arms crossed. The light catches the glitter in his ink. "I have a gift for you."

Rider blinks. "I have a gift for you, too. It's in my hands, do you want to open it?"

He grins as Emperor looks at him, vaguely exasperated. He offers the gold and silver box, careful not to shake it. 

Emperor takes it. With deft, nimble fingers, he pulls free the silvery bow and lets the trappings fall away. Another pull on the paper also lifts the top of the box.

"A clock?" Emperor asks, intrigued. He pulls the heavy alarm clock from its box, eyes wide, instantly enraptured with the item.

+

Inside of the box... is a Splash-o-Matic. Laceless stares at it for a long time until working up the courage to lift it, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. He blinks up at Prince, a smile already forming.

"You're the only one who can do it," Prince says quietly. "We'd be really, really happy to have you on the team."

Laceless nods, tracing the smooth edges of the weapon's barrel. 

"I won't let you down," Laceless murmurs. "Ever."

With that, he takes his own small box. Prince takes it, though he wraps Laceless' hands into his own. He trails his fingers across the back of his hands and plucks the box up, using the very tips of his fingers to unfurl the packaging.

A gold stopwatch falls into Prince's waiting palm.

"I-- I know it's not much, but it was really pretty, and it reminded me of you," Laceless blurts, fidgeting with his hands. He gapes when Prince drags him into a tight hug and keeps him there, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"This is also because I'm really bad at telling time, isn't it?" Prince laughs, shoulders shaking.

Laceless squawks. "No! Never!"

+

"I'm not really sure why I went with a clock, but it's built out of Dynamo parts," Rider says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I think I know why," Emperor snorts. "You want me to wake up on time, huh?"

Rider grins, sticking his tongue out at the other. "And this is too heavy to throw!"

With great care, Emperor sets the clock onto the table, admiring it. His family emblem has been engraved across the two bells, and the metal is a deep, brassy color. It's gorgeous.

"It's perfect," Emperor says warmly. "Thank you! Now it's your turn, Rider."

Emperor withdraws a thin package from within his jacket. When Rider takes it, he finds it to be heavier than it looks, clearly a piece of clothing. He tears it open delicately.

"Is this... this is my own jacket," Rider notices immediately, looking up at his boyfriend. "Emperor?"

"Look at it more! Put it on!" Emperor hisses, batting his shoulder. 

He sighs, but unfolds the jacket in its entirety. It's his White Inky Rider-- the one he wears only to concerts, the one covered in pins and patches, the one that currently has not one, but--

"That's-- Emperor," Rider chokes, staring at the signatures. "Emperor!"

Emperor laughs, hiding his mouth beneath his hands.

Individual signatures had been written across the jacket. Pearl and Marina had taken one fold, with Callie and Marie's writing on the other. Tentatively, he brushes his fingers across the dried ink, noting that the writing had been sealed.

Holy  _ shit. _

Without thinking, he grabs Emperor and kisses him on the mouth, jacket still clutched in his hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was a secret santa gift for a friend and it was so much fun to write


End file.
